‘Back from the dead? Is that a helpful phrase?’

‘You know what I mean. There’s no holding the man down. You know how many search warrants we’re serving this evening? I counted them up just an hour ago. Seven. And I expect he’s putting a couple more before the magistrate as we speak.’

‘And what’s he expecting to find?’

‘Evidence of a conspiracy.’

‘To bury Christianne?’

‘Yeah. And he’s probably right. McFaul couldn’t have done that by himself. The site’s remote. There are no approach roads and even when you’re on the coastal path you have to battle through the Mato fucking Grosso to get to the clifftop. You want to see what those brambles can do?’ For a moment, I think he’s going to roll up one trouser leg, but he has second thoughts.

‘But might you be able to spare Evelyn the full treatment?’ I’m looking at the bungalow.

‘Yeah.’

‘How?’

‘We’re thinking you might know more than you’ve let on.’

‘We? You and Bullivant?’

‘Of course. Pictures speak louder than words. Isn’t that what they say?’

Louder than words? It takes me a moment or two to untangle this little clue. Then I remember the young reporter on the beach that Sunday when we said our goodbyes to Christianne. He must have taken dozens of shots and I know at least one of them made the local paper because Evelyn later sent me a copy.

‘You’re thinking Christianne had some kind of funeral party? Bearers? All that?’

‘We think McFaul had help. Either way it’s a conspiracy.’

‘To what?’

‘To murder. If that’s what the PM tells us.’

PM is police-speak for post-mortem. The temperature out here on the grass verge has suddenly dropped several degrees.

‘You still think McFaul killed her?’

‘Yes. Either that, or he helped. Both would put him in front of a jury.’

‘Along with all his mates?’

‘Yes.’

‘Including me?’

‘Only you know that.’

I nod. The unspoken deal here couldn’t be clearer. Brett thinks I was one of those sturdy yeomen who carried Christianne to her grave. And a name or two would save us all a great deal of trouble. Including, of course, Evelyn.

I study Brett for a long moment, and then I beckon him closer until I can whisper in his ear.

‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ I murmur. ‘And even if I did, you lot would be the last to know.’